


Psychological Warfare

by HeartbreakTerrorBird



Category: The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Addiction, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Physical Abuse, Violence, Xenophobia, dependancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23080159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartbreakTerrorBird/pseuds/HeartbreakTerrorBird
Summary: Shorts depicting SkekSil and SkekUng's abusive relationship over the years. This is not a wholesome fic, don't even expect a second of wholesomeness. Takes place in canon with Seige Warfare and continues on from Letters to SkekSil.
Relationships: SkekUng/SkekTek, skekSil/skekUng (Dark Crystal)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

SkekSil hates cuddling after sex. It is a waste of valuable time. There is so much to do when you are the castle Chamberlain. It is a heavily administrative job. And besides that, he has so much of his own work to do: spying, plotting, scheming, political manoeuvring, however, you might refer to it, it requires time and commitment. But ambition requires sacrifice, and in this case, so does manipulation. 

SkekUng is wrapped around him, hot and sweaty and covered in scratchy, bristly fur. He has already drenched SkekSil in his saliva, dribbling and drooling over him as they'd fucked, and now he is making a point of matting it into SkekSil's hair.

Pressed against SkekSil's back and purring in his ear hole, SkekUng's powerful arms are clenched around Chamberlain's ribs, stopping him from being able to squirm away. SkekUng is grooming him, dragging his long rough tongue up the length of SkekSil's neck, from his shoulders to the top of his head, soaking him in spittal. He stops occasionally to nibble and chew at Chamberlain's hair and then continues, lapping over his skin. 

It is not for Chamberlain's benefit, that's for sure. The moment he can find an excuse to kick SkekUng out, without showing too much of his well-hidden disgust, he will. Lying still and tolerating the 'affection', SkekSil thinks only on how much thorough scrubbing all of this spit will take to get out of his hair and off his skin. 

Periodically, he tilts his head and feigns a sigh of contentment, smiles and blinks slowly. He even reaches back and caresses SkekUng's face, scratching his claws through his facial hair.   
The ugly brute has curled his tail around SkekSil's tail and that is a sure sign he intends to stay the night, so SkekSil lets him perform his rituals. Let's SkekUng knead his chest and breasts, covering his reddish skin with minute scratches, let's him chew and dribble and purr against the slope of SkekSil's shoulders and down the curve of his slim neck.

The Conqueror's beady red eyes are half-closed in satisfaction. Soon he will fall asleep. While he's sharp and wily in general, he is a stupid fuck and even more empty-headed post-orgasm. The moment the blood rushes down to his cocks he's anyone's fool. It's a useful trait, and one his slippery tell gives away: if he's dribbling his cocks are hard, or at least half hard. It's pathetic.

Chamberlain thinks all this as he caresses SkekUng's golden eye ridges, drags his claws through his thick black hair. Tilts his head and coos to him. Smiling, always smiling. His small, cold eyes creased with feigned affection. He can feel the Conqueror's ribs inflating and deflating against his back. He will sleep soon but SkekSil will not. He likes to sleep on his back, arms at his sides, palms flat on the mattress. It is the most efficient way to sleep. But he will have to remain still tonight, let SkekUng hold him and nuzzle him and cuddle him all he wishes.

When the Conqueror begins to snore, Chamberlain drops his act. His lips curl back over his pin-sharp teeth, his brows draw in, his eyes, shiny and hard as marbles, narrow with hate. He looks over his shoulder at his intruder, gets a waft of stinking breath over his face, and wrinkles his beak with disgust. Vile, hairy, stinking Skeksis. There are so many sacrifices to make for power. It is a cruel and careless master and to be its servant one must learn to be cruel and careless too. SkekUng will be useful in the long run, he is sure, after all, every Emperor needs his General: a loyal and subservient brute to take the blade on behalf of his Emperor. Yes, SkekUng will suit purpose nicely if trained the correct way. 

SkekSil smiles, a private, genuine smile only for himself as he sets his mind to his next days' work. He will make the most of these wakeful hours. There is so much to be done, so many plans to be made, an empire to build, a throne to usurp. A busy Chamberlain has no time to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chamberlain wakes in the night, choking. He is panicking before his eyes open and in his horror, it takes him a second on two to realise that the beady red dots glinting in the darkness are SkekUng's eyes and that the things constricting his throat are SkekUng's bony hands. From panicking, he calms. He knows his assailant and as with any problem, knowledge is the first step towards a solution. He looks sad. Brings his hands up to rest on SkekUng's forearms but doesn't try to push him away, caresses him. Arches his neck to give him better access. It takes every ounce of self-control to do so when the animal inside of him is screaming to survive. SkekUng, predictably, faulters. He snarls, squeezes tighter and then let's go, reeling back.

Internally, SkekSil smiles, externally he coughs weakly and grasps at his throat,  
"Why SkekUng hurt, SkekSil?" He asks, his voice weak and pitiful, "Hmm? SkekSil has given him his love, hmm? Let him into his bed, his body. Hmm?"  
"Your love?" SkekUng spits, spines flashing up, "Your love is poison! Your love is cold and rotten! You rot everything you touch!"  
SkekSil presses his hand to his chest in disbelief,  
"Why does SkekUng says such things? What has SkekSil done? He simply sleeps!"  
"You don't sleep! Dead things don't sleep!"

SkekSil thinks hard as he watches SkekUng begin to pace back and forth across the room. The Conqueror's tail is flicking, his hair on end. How irritating to be wasting the valuable minutes of the night on whatever personal crisis the Conqueror is having, SkekSil thinks. Tomorrow SkekSil will still have to get up to work and now he will have to do so tired. Selfish. He sighs, and lays back, propped up on his pillows, and reaches out to SkekUng,  
"Come," he calls, "Come, hmm? Let me hold you. Make everything better. We'll talk, hmm?"  
"I don't want to talk to you!" SkekUng snarls, "I don't want to touch you!"  
SkekSil tilts his head, expression mild,  
"You hate SkekSil?"  
"I hate you!"  
SkekSil tilts his head again,  
"You love SkekSil."  
SkekUng pauses, fists clenched so tightly that he draws blood from his own palms,  
"I hate you." He hisses, "I hate that you don't love me."  
SkekSil blinks,  
"SkekSil does love you," he coos, reaching out his arms again, "Come, come."  
"You don't love me." SkekUng hisses as he crawls up the bed and lays his head down on SkekSil's stomach, "You don't love me." He sighs, "You're incapable of love."  
SkekSil tuts. Runs his fingers through the Conqueror's black hair, massages his scalp,  
"Shh shh," he says gently, "You are tired, hmm. Puts silly thoughts in Conqueror's head."  
"I hate this." SkekUng whispers against his stomach, "I wish I could just kill you and get it over with."  
"I know," SkekSil coos, "I know."  
"I wish I could be blind or too stupid to know you're using me. I wish I could be more like SkekVar."  
"No, no," SkekSil chides, stroking his cheek, "do not wish that on self, hmm? Fate worse than death."  
SkekUng chuckles. He exhales heavily.  
"I hate this." He says.   
He sounds exhausted.  
SkekSil scratches his claws through the hair on his back, hums,  
"Sleep, hmm."  
"I can't sleep."  
"SkekSil knows what will help you sleep. Hmm?"  
"No." SkekUng grouses.  
SkekSil presses his hand into his back,  
"No." SkekUng begs, but he mounts SkekSil despite it. Whimpers,  
"No. No." As he penetrates him and presses his face into SkekSil's shoulder muffling himself, muffling his pleas.  
"There," SkekSil says, voice light, face grimacing, "all better." He coos.  
And SkekUng whimpers pitifully into his shoulder, and thrusts and thrusts and hates every minute of it.


	3. Taking back control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have a crazy idea of what 'cute' is

SkekSil doesn't even look cute when he sleeps. Adorable, endearing, lovable, are all concepts as alien to the Chamberlain as cheese is to the suns. SkekSil in repose resembles a corpse, or a stone statue depicting a corpse. There is nothing relaxed about his body. His face is utterly expressionless. SkekUng is still surprised he sleeps at all, and he's watched SkekSil sleep plenty of times. 

SkekUng stands, fists on his hips, at the side of the bed. Looming over SkekSil, he curls his lips back over his teeth in a look that is almost impossible to discern: it is both a grimace and a smile. His hands whip out and he grabs SkekSil's beak with one and his bottom jaw with the other and yanks his mouth open. SkekSil squawks, tongue flapping, and SkekUng leans over and hawks a throatful of phlegm into his open mouth.   
SkekSil screams.  
SkekUng releases him and, as he does, the Chamberlain leaps up in bed, nightgown billowing, and dry heaves over the bedcover,  
"Vile!" he screeches, "Filthy!"  
"Oh, come on," SkekUng chuckles, "you've had worse fluids in your mouth than my spit."  
SkekSil stares at him. His beady hateful eyes aglow. They narrow into slits, and with a scream he throws himself forward, arms projecting, claws ready. SkekUng catches him and they make a controlled topple to the floor.   
SkekSil sits on his fat hairy stomach and slashes and tears at his face and chest with his claws, screeching. SkekUng laughs and grabs him by the wrists then lunges up and closes SkekSil's ropey, turkey neck in his teeth. SkekSil screeches and writhes to get free so SkekUng squeezes his jaw a little tighter, just so he can really feel the beginnings of the bite of his teeth, and the struggling stops. SkekSil hums,  
"Hmmm, let SkekSil go, hmm? He forgives, hmm. Just a fun joke, yes?"  
SkekUng chuckles around his throat but doesn't release him,  
"Come now," SkekSil coos, wriggling a little more seductively in his lap, "SkekSil only playing, hmmm, not really trying to hurt SkekUng."  
Hurt me? SkekUng thinks, You couldn't if you tried.  
To think the rancid little lump thinks he can wiggle his fat rump on SkekUng's lap and get his own way. It's laughable.  
He licks SkekSil's throat and feels SkekSil draw in a silent, hissing breath.  
That's more like the SkekSil he knows: contemptuous and disgusted.  
"Hmm, come now, there are more enjoyable things we can be doing, yes?"  
Unseen by SkekSil, SkekUng's eyes narrow.   
That's really what you think of me, he thinks.  
You think I'm just some meathead dick-brain who can be distracted by any old offer of a hole.   
SkekUng snarls and with a great convulsion flips them over so that SkekSil is pinned beneath him. He slams the Chamberlain's arms down against the floor and holds them there, then releases his throat. He sits up straight so that his vulnerable throat is not in reach of SkekSil's snapping beak and pin-sharp teeth.   
"I don't have to have your permission to have your hole!" He snarls.  
SkekSil narrows his eyes at him.  
"Do you understand me? You worm!" He barks and SkekSil curls his lips back over his teeth,  
"Hmmm, yes, SkekSil understands what Conqueror is saying."  
"Conqueror," SkekUng scoffs, "that's right. Keep that title in mind. If I want your hole I'll take it- and I don't care if you enjoy it!"   
He exposes his teeth, looming down, mouth open and dribbling thick globules of spittle. SkekSil looks at him with pure hatred in his eyes, his body rigid with it.   
"In fact," SkekUng snarls, "I think I'd prefer it if you didn't because I want you to remember, SkekSil, that I can hurt you. It doesn't matter how smart you are- how cunning and conniving- because at the end of the day, I can still kick that door down," he flicks his beak towards the bedroom door, "and there's nothing you can do about it. Do you understand?"  
SkekSil stares at him in silence, face a mask of loathing. It's almost parodical. Then he says, coldly,  
"Yes."  
"Good."  
SkekUng releases him and gets up, stands over him, flicking his tail,  
"I'm going to have a piss." He says, and he turns and walks away into the en suite.  
SkekSil lays on the floor in silence.  
He clenches his hands into fists and bangs them on the wooden flooring, not out of anger but out of frustration.   
Why can he not control the Conqueror? The Emperor makes it look so easy. SkekVar crawls at his feet, his mindless supplicant, and yet no matter what SkekSil does, no matter how he degrades his body and tongue with false evocations of love, he just can't seem to trick SkekUng into believing it's real. Into being his servant. Into obeying him. It is infuriating. But he cannot give up. He must think and think hard on some new scheme.   
An idea begins to form in SkekSil's mind, and he smiles slightly.   
Yes, new thoughts, new plans come so quickly when the goal is clear. He will solve this knotty problem yet.   
He sits up and then climbs to his feet. He gets back into bed and pulls the covers back over himself as if nothing had happened, smiling slightly.  
Yes, new plans come so quickly.


	4. Love is Shame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your kind comments :)

He does love SkekSil.  
It's a horrible thought, but it's true.  
He does love SkekSil.  
He hates SkekSil-  
with a passion.  
He'd kill SkekSil if he could.

And it's that qualifier that lets him know he's fucked.

A smart Skeksis acknowledges his own foibles, recognises his weaknesses, plans for them, and understands his true self. SkekUng is a smart Skeksis. It's why he's alive and the Castle's other 'brute' muscle are mostly all dead.  
And yet, he can't be that smart because he loves SkekSil.

There's technically nothing stopping him from killing the Chamberlain. The Emperor is old and weak, sure he'd exile SkekUng but so what? He'd lived abroad for years without the company of other Skeksis. In time the Emperor would die or lose the reigns of power and SkekUng would return. He might even challenge him to Haakseekah and return of his own accord.

He's tried to kill SkekSil several times, twice SkekSil had outsmarted him but the rest of them… he had bottled. He'd refused to acknowledge what had stayed his hand when he'd been young and brash and arrogant, then he'd gotten old and cool(ish) and wise and looked his burden in the face. The hideous little monkey on his back. SkekSil. How he loathed SkekSil. How he loved SkekSil. Had for such a long time. 

Every Skeksis is addicted to something; he wishes he could say that his was murder, or sex, or drink, or food, or drugs, or essence, or violence, or humiliation but it's worse than that… so much worse.  
He would give anything to have a crippling drug addiction or to rot in his bed from Darkening addiction like the Emperor, if only it meant he didn't have to be addicted to SkekSil. 

What is there to love about SkekSil? He's asked himself this question so many times and in so many places and so many moods. Mostly the answer is the same. That is when he's being honest with himself.  
The fact of the matter is he loves SkekSil for all the reasons he hates him:

He's smart and wily. Sneaky. Manipulative, deceptive and backstabbing but not a coward- never a coward. He's cruel and capricious and changeable. Charming and slick and sly. He can worm his way into your good books even as he manipulates you. He smiles and coos and his techniques are so blatant, his aims so clear, and yet you still can't help but find yourself being pulled along by his schemes. You're like a child's toy: SkekSil tugging you down the Castle corridor by a string, turning this corner here and turning you over there, flipped when he'd tugged you along too fast.   
SkekSil has him on a string.  
Violent, selfish, sociopathic SkekSil. SkekSil who cares for no one but himself. Prideful SkekSil. Spiteful SkekSil. Seductive SkekSil. Sadistic SkekSil. Ambitious SkekSil.  
SkekSil who loves nothing but Power.   
And why?  
For Power's sake.  
He could control SkekUng if he wanted- and he does want! He just doesn't know how to get it. It's bitterly ironic. SkekUng would give himself to SkekSil in a heartbeat, even though he hates him, even though he knows it's unwise. He'd crawl on his hands and knees for SkekSil if only SkekSil could do one thing:

Love him.

And that is the one thing SkekSil cannot do.

The worst part of loving SkekSil is not even the shame and self-loathing. It's not the constant open emotional wound that SkekSil is able to stab-at at will, it's the ache. The painful heartache. It sounds cliché but SkekUng has learned to live with the cliché. His heart aches. SkekSil cannot love him but no matter how hard he tries, no matter how passionately he hates SkekSil, and he really really does, he cannot pull the knife of love from his own heart. It fills him with rage. It fills him with loathing. It makes him do things to SkekSil… things he cannot imagine doing to anyone else without crippling shame. 

He always mocked SkekVar. Considered him weak and pathetic… but now… now he wishes he were here. That they could have been friends instead of letting SkekSil come between them. He understands the General's devotion to the Emperor, envies it even. Envies the relationship they had. He wishes he could have a sympathetic ear to his own troubles. What he wouldn't give to have an ounce of the affection the Emperor showed to SkekVar shown to him, sincerely, by SkekSil. What he wouldn't give to be able to adore SkekSil without being filled with fear and self-loathing and shame. But the time has passed for that. They are too old now and set in their ways. And yet, it's just another dream to think that SkekSil could have been changed when he was younger; something in the Chamberlain has always been broken. He has a dark and loveless heart. 

So SkekUng loves enough for both of them, and loathes both of them, and will until they both die or, worse, until the end of time.


	5. Crossposting this one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crossposting this one to both Warfare fics cause it fits both

SkekUng bounces the hard ball up on the heel of his hand and snatches it out of the air with the other. SkekVar is ignoring him and he wrinkles his beak at him, sticks his tongue out and pulls a face. SkekVar stares down at the gate and the rippling moat and scratches his feathered head.  
"You're going to go bald." SkekUng says.  
The Ambassador snorts and shoots him a glare from the corner of his eye but stops picking at the mass of black feathers.  
SkekUng pulls another ball from his pocket and throws them both up to watch them arc from hand to hand,  
"Stop that." SkekVar snorts, "clown's games."  
"SkekLi taught me. Good for hand-eye coordination."  
"You're making a fool of yourself."  
SkekUng ignores him and the Ambassador smacks one of the balls from the air and sends it down into the moat. SkekUng snarls, spines and feathers rising and SkekVar turns on him. They square-up, chest to puffed out chest, feathers on-end and tails thrashing and teeth bared. This lasts for a few moments and then SkekUng submits. 

Below them, the Castle doors creak open. SkekVar hurries to the edge of the balcony and peers down,  
"SkekSil," he sneers.   
SkekUng hurries up beside him and they stare down at the top of the Chamberlain's head like two Fizzigigs eyeing a crawly, whipping their tails back and forth,  
"I'm going to spit on him." SkekUng says,  
"Hahaha, good."  
SkekUng gurgles up a mouthful of saliva and let's it dribble from his beak.   
They watch it fall in a suspenseful silence.   
It hits the top of the Chamberlain's head and he flinches, touches it and then looks up. When he sees them grinning he squawks angrily. SkekUng waves to him and he and SkekVar both laugh, jostling each other good-humouredly. 

A vehicle comes rattling up over the green.  
Even from this distance, the Emperor's silhouette can be spied out, sitting ramrod straight in the open coach, his outfit and feathers as black as the shadow he casts on the sunlit grass. SkekVar snorts and bolts from the balcony, back down the stairs. SkekUng rolls his eyes,  
Pathetic, he thinks, the both of them.

SkekSil stands below, wringing his hands and smirking to himself that he will be the one to greet the Emperor. That is until SkekVar comes lolloping out of the door and bodily throws him aside, almost toppling him into the lake. 

The Ambassador belts over the bridge, greeting the coach like a Fizzigig with his waggling tail. SkekUng can't see the Emperor well but he can tell from the lay of his feathers that he is amused. When the coach stops, SkekVar offers the Emperor his hand and helps him down.   
SkekVar wrinkles his beak in disgust. Kiss-arse. 

SkekSil trembles with rage. SkekUng watches him, half curious and half-amused. Watches the Chamberlain watch the Ambassador and the Emperor, as the Ambassador watches the Emperor. SkekSil's hands clench into fists, only briefly, and then they relax and he places one over his chest as he bows low to the Emperor. Whatever they say is lost on SkekUng, the distance making their words impossible to make out, but he can read their body language and that is where the real conversation lies. 

When the Emperor looks up to him, he bows his head low and respectful. The Emperor waits until he looks up and then looks away. SkekUng smiles. SkekVar glowers at him, eyes hot and jealous. SkekSil's hard sharp eyes crease in the corners. That is never a good sign. You don't have to have lived hundreds of years to know the Chamberlain's a creepy little sneak. A troublemaker. SkekUng frowns: thinking about the Chamberlain has put him in a bad mood. 

The Emperor and SkekVar pass through the Castle doors and into the shadows, SkekSil trotting along behind them (no doubt bending the Emperor's ear). SkekUng heads for the stairs himself. Most likely the Emperor will want a brief reprieve while he is updated on what has occurred in his absence. That gives SkekUng enough time to make himself presentable. He must make a good impression: he is looking for a promotion. SpyMaster is not a job that suits him well. He does it and does it effectively but he doesn't enjoy it, and besides, he has so many physical attributes that the Emperor could put to use. He wonders if SkekTek knows of the Emperor's return, he appreciates any occasion that gives him a chance of company. Poor little bird locked up in his cage. Descending the shadowed stairs he smiles to himself: there must be something he can do to jam a rod in the Chamberlain's gears. Something he can say that will undermine whatever it is SkekSil is scheming over. Yes, he and SkekTek can have a little think. The Emperor's return could be profitable and fun. Never a dull moment in the Castle of the Crystal.


	6. Familiar Animals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continues on from three is a lonely number, or whatever I called that chapter in Seige Warfare

SkekUng leaves the Emperor's chambers frustrated and angry. He heads down, down down into the depths of the castle where the animals know him well. They make only a little sound as he passes by them. He does not remember all their names but he knows their faces, their little wet noses and their crooked beaks and their fearful beady eyes. He stands beneath the archway and watches the bent over back of the Scientist as he scuttles about his lair fitful and muttering to himself. When he's ready to announce himself, SkekUng grunts loudly and SkekTek jumps in his skin and turns around,  
"Conqueror!" He announces, "I'd heard no herald of your return!"  
"Well here I am," he says, feeling bedraggled and unimpressive, "disappointed?"  
"Never disappointed to see a friendly face! Come, come, er, let me serve you some refreshment! I have a bottle of something around here…"  
He picks up a bottle in one spindly hand and shakes, listening with a tilt of his head,  
"No, no, uh, perhaps this one…?"  
"Nevermind that!" SkekUng snarls and SkekTek flinches bowing over to him,  
"Eh, forgive."  
SkekUng exhales through his nose, what a pitiful sight,  
"I meant: how have you been, my little bird?"   
He opens his arms wide and SkekTek hurries into them, curling against his chest,  
"Awful," he says, "incomprehensibly terrible. Everyone has left me, everyone of my friends. First SkekLi, then SkekSa, then you..."  
SkekUng rests his chin on the furry top of SkekTek's head and rubs his fingers in firm, comforting circles against his shoulders,  
"Let's get you out of that heavy back-piece, my little bird."  
"No, no, I, ah, I'm a mess…"  
"Shh, shh, where're you sleeping these days?"  
SkekTek curls his claws against SkekUng's chest, pauses. He clearly has something to say, but as always he is too afraid to say it.  
"Speak up." He grunts and SkekTek whimpers,  
"It's only… you didn't come purely to…?"  
SkekUng snorts out a laugh,  
"You think I travelled halfway across Thra to fuck you? No, little bird. I've already drunk and I've already cum. Just show me where your bed is and get out of those uncomfortable clothes."  
"I'm working-"  
He hurries SkekTek around the room, yanking at dirty curtains until he finds the one that conceals the minute space the Scientist has converted into a sleeping spot. He snorts,  
"What happened to your proper bedchambers?"  
"I needed it for storage. Besides, sleeping in here is, well it's closer to the lab..." He cringes, "The Emperor likes me to be busy."  
SkekUng wrinkles his lips at the sight of the pitiful camp bed and the raggedy little shelves with their single candle holder perched on top. He shakes his hairy head,  
"Take your clothes off."

They strip down and SkekUng climbs into the sagging bed, pressing his back up against the hard stone wall. He opens his arms again and SkekTek climbs into them, curling against him, wrapped in his hairy arms and squeezed against his furry torso.  
"There." SkekUng says, huffing into the Scientist's fluffy, curling hair.  
"There, what?"  
"Now," he says, "I can sleep. I've had a long journey."  
"I really have to-"  
"Shh," he snaps, "shut up! Just let me hold you and go to sleep! You're a stupid little bird. For someone with such a big brain you spare none of it for what's important."  
Scientist grinds his teeth, nudges his head apologetically against SkekUng's chest until he's comfortable, until SkekUng's rough fur is scratching his cheeks.   
"What's important?" He says quietly, voice low so as to not drown out the slow beating of the Conqueror's heart.  
"Rest," he says quietly, "taking care of yourself."  
SkekUng's talons scratch over SkekTek 's bony, hunched back, stroke through his baby-soft fur. He can feel every nodule of his strained spine. The Scientist purrs and closes his eyes.  
"I swear," SkekUng rumbles, "sometimes I think if I leave you alone for five seconds you'll poke your eye out, or cut your hand off, or starve yourself. You're such a reckless creature."  
SkekTek chuckles,  
"Mmm, maybe."  
"Go to sleep, little bird. Make the smart move for a change. I'm here, let me be your excuse. Chamberlain can't hurt you, I'll wring his skinny neck, and if anyone else complains I'll show them how mad the deserts can drive a Skeksis."  
Scientist doesn't reply, just hums quietly against his chest. Despite his protestations, he is already falling asleep.

SkekUng can not sleep.

He is tired, by Thra he is tired, and it is not the rough cold stone at his back, or the weak sagging bed that keeps him awake. It is not SkekTek's nasally snoring, or the unbearable heat of the fire pit, or even the stench of the animal cages. It is fear.   
SkekUng lies awake because he is afraid. He knows, even with the Scientist curled in his arms, his little bird with a genius mind and no street smarts, that when he is rested he will go to SkekSil and the thought fills him with dread.   
Why?  
Why?  
Why can he not resist the call of the thing he most hates? The thing that most hates and most harms him?  
SkekTek would give him everything he needs. SkekTek can't give him everything he needs and sickens him. What is it? The drive that SkekSil fulfils? The death drive, he thinks. I'm a masochist.   
It can be the only answer.

So he holds SkekTek in his arms and wishes that the little Scientist could fill the hole in his heart: that deep dark pit that yawns and aches and roils with hatred. There is nothing that fills it, not even SkekSil. But SkekSil, with his cruelty and his cold cold affection gives a different kind of pain that, in its own way, soothes the ache.   
He has been used by the Emperor, he has used SkekTek, and tonight he will go to SkekSil as his punishment.

SkekUng tips his beak down and nibbles at the Scientist's hair, grooming him,  
"You deserve better, little bird." He whispers and Scientist sighs and sleeps the deep sleep of a clear conscience.


	7. Pumping Iron

“Come on little bird,” he purrs, “It’ll be good for you.”  
“I’m not, no, erm, I think the Emperor is satisfied with my labour in his service. A- ah- labour of the mind- please stop pushing me!”  
SkekUng pushes and prods and elbows him down the corridor, SkekTek shuffling against him desperate to get away but too afraid to stand up for himself. The Gelfling guards watch with a subdued amusement but SkekUng is in too good a mood to punish them. He’s grinning, a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth, and has no intention of letting SkekTek getaway,  
“Come on, little bird, how often do you get free from that lab of yours?”  
“I like it there….” he whines, mouth pulled down in a grimace.   
The Scientist slaps his little hands futilely against SkekUng’s meaty chest and SkekUng chuckles,  
“And I promise you’ll like exercising, especially the way I do it.”  
SkekTek whimpers. He doesn’t believe him. He will.

SkekUng bullies him through the doorway and locks it behind them. The room is like many of the others, a tall arching ceiling steeped in cobwebs and stone walls lit by the orange flames of wax candles. This room, unlike so many is full of metal and wooden contraptions, death machines SkekTek thinks, that the Scientist has taken no part in making. They are SkekVar’s creations, and SkekUng’s and SkekSa’s and SkekNa’s monstrosities. Hulking metal lumps suspended on bars, low wooden tables and benches, strange rods and hanging objects stuffed full of straw. SkekTek cannot comprehend any of them. He doesn’t know where to even begin. SkekUng guides him with a firm push against his chest, nudging him towards one of the long low tables. Over it a set of bars sit, weighted with heavy and huge objects like big bolts.   
“I don’t know about this…” SkekTek begins and SkekUng grunts and interrupts him,  
“Strip off.”  
“What?!”  
“Down to your skivvies, you’re going to work up a sweat.”  
The Spymaster strips off with alarming speed and flexes his hairy muscles. SkekTek sweats and swallows.   
“Maybe I should help you?” SkekUng purrs and SkekTek backs up, tail flicking,  
“No no, I can do it myself!” he squeaks and he begins to strip down.   
It’s agonisingly embarrassing for him, every second a stabbing shame. He ends up in his underdress, his skinny legs and knobbly knees knocking together. SkekTek wraps his arms around himself and squeezes.  
“There,” SkekUng grins, “All ready to pump.”  
SkekTek raises a brow at him,  
“Eh?”  
SkekUng pushes him back until he falls to sit on the low table.  
“Lie down on that bench, little bird. I’ll stand at the head and then you and I are going to pump some iron, and by that I mean you’re going to pump some iron and I’m going to stop you from exploding you’re brainy melon.”  
SkekTek winces,  
“I’m really not sure that this is a good idea.”  
“Stop whining!”   
SkekUng takes an embarrassing amount of the metal wights off of the ends of the bar. In fact, he takes off all but two very small ones.  
“There,” he says, “lie with your neck beneath the bar, bend your elbows, grip it tight- yeah, like that- then you’re gonna lift it off of the hooks. Don’t worry, I’ve got a hold too, it won’t fall.”  
SkekTek wheezes, tears form in the corners of his eyes, his legs shake, his stomach muscles spasm, he manages to lift the bar until his arms are almost straight.  
“Good job,” SkekUng purrs, “Good boy. Let it down, little bird. Slowly- slowly!”  
The bar bangs down onto the stand. SkekTek’s ribs heave as he wheezes, flushed and exhausted.  
“One.” SkekUng declares.  
“Enough!”  
“No! One! Now lift it again!”  
SkekTek whimpers but does as he’s told. He manages three and then he is as weak as a Fizzigig kitten. SkekUng sighs and takes the two weights off of the end,  
“Lift the bar.”  
“There are no-”  
“I know that! Lift the bar!”  
SkekTek lifts it.  
“How’s that?” SkekUng asks,  
“Okay, I suppose. Tolerable?”  
“Good. Enough to lift on your own?”  
“Why?” he wheezes, “You’re helping me? You’re supposed to be helping me!”  
SkekUng grins, a horrid grin,  
“I will be.”  
SkekTek shudders,  
“...okay.”

He lies down and lifts the bar and watches from the corner of his eye as SkekUng paces down towards the end of the bench, standing between his feet.  
“One…” he whimpers.   
He feels something touch the inside of his thigh and he jumps, arms bowing. SkekUng roars and lunges forward and grabs the bar before it can land on the Scientist’s chest.  
“Stupid!” he snarls,  
“You distracted me!” Scientist wails.  
SkekUng shakes his head,   
“Lift the bar and don’t drop it! Or else we’re going to have to stop all of our fun activities.”  
SkekTek grimaces and swallows deeply, but he does as he’s told,  
“Two-”  
“One!” SkekUng barks,  
“One…” SkekTek whimpers.  
SkekUng’s powerful hand strokes up the inside of his thigh and his leg trembles,  
“Two…” he whimpers.  
A warm breath blows over his cloacal hole and SkekTek squeaks as his erections jump free.  
SkekUng grins,  
“We’re gonna get your heartbeat up,” he purrs, “It’s good for you.”  
SkekTek whimpers,  
“Three-” his voice breaks into a shuddering breath as SkekUng’s hand squeezes and strokes up the length of his shafts, “Ooooooh…”  
“Lovely little cocks aren’t they?” SkekUng purrs, “Not so bad is it, SkekTek?”  
SkekTek whimpers,  
“Four!” he squeaks as SkekUng’s fingers smear precum over his midnight-blue heads.   
“Keep going…” SkekUng rumbles, and then he closes his mouth over SkekTek’s slender cocks, swallowing them down.

The Scientist whimpers, his whole body shudders, juddering as SkekUng’s muscular, wet tongue wraps around his lengths and squeezes.   
“Oh, ooooh!”  
SkekUng chuckles around him and it sends vibrations all the way through him and up into his hole.  
SkekUng pulls off wetly,  
“Lift!” he barks,  
“Oh! Five! Ah!”  
SkekUng takes him down into his mouth and sucks and strokes and lathes his tongue up and down the Scientist’s throbbing lengths, chuckling and then chuckling more at the way he wriggles and whimpers. Watching SkekTek’s spindly little arms quiver as he lifts an empty bar really is something else. Watching his knobbly knees knock together with every hard suck is just hilarious. He can tell by the way his bony little chest is heaving and his face, his pretty, long narrow face, is flushed deep blue that he’s going to cum soon. It doesn’t take long to bring the Scientist to the edge. He’s really is cute when he cums. 

SkekTek pants and whimpers and writhes as SkekUng works him and works. Him. When he feels SkekTek’s cocks twitching against his tongue, he slides off, seamlessly replacing his mouth with his spit-soaked hand so that he can drag his tongue down and bury it in SkekTek's tight, wet hole. SkekTek bucks, wails, his voice breaking, and spills over SkekUng's tight fist. His arms give way and he drops the bar down onto his chest, his breath bursting out of him, his arms and legs trembling. He whimpers. SkekUng grins and stands, stroking him loosely through his orgasm. He lifts the bar with one hand and hooks it back up on the stand. SkekTek whimpers pathetically and SkekUng caresses his face, traces down his slim neck, over his dark blue flushed chest, through the light dashing of curly hair on his chest, and then down, down over his soft potbelly. SkekUng flicks his tongue over his teeth, oh how he loves that soft belly. It gets him so hard. 

SkekTek's eyes crack open and he looks blearily up at his tormentor. He catches sight of SkekUng's cocks hanging sticky and heavy and he swallows, half nervous and half aroused.  
SkekUng grins,  
"Looks like you've worked up a nice sweat, my little bird. How about you and I wash each other down and if you're really good I might even let you try my special protein drink."


End file.
